Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 88490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
“Awwwwwwww!” the Riley clan choruses.
“That’s…she…” Blake sputters. “I’m an uncle! She looks just like me.”
I assume he’s kidding, but when I look up at Blake’s face, it’s rapt, and his eyes are shiny. I press myself against his great bulk and push my face into his chest. One hand clamps around me, and I have a moment of complete happiness. What’s more, I no longer feel as though this was the weirdest day ever. Standing here in the circle of Blake’s arms, witness to this amazing family moment? It feels absolutely right. Maybe I am suffering from low blood sugar. And there must be reproductive hormones off-gassing throughout the maternity ward.
“Look!” Mama Riley crows. “Here comes the name!”
A nurse in teddy bear–patterned scrubs walks over, flashing a smile to everyone on our side of the glass. She affixes a small sign to the bassinet. In black Sharpie, someone has written:
Annalise Jessica Daly, born November 2, 4:36 p.m.
“Oh man!” Blake chuckles. “The middle name was supposed to be Blake! You’ve stolen my honor, J-Babe.” He picks me right up off the floor and kisses my cheek, laughing.
“Omigod.” I’m staring at that card in astonishment. Maybe “Jessica” was already one of the names they’d been kicking around? “There’s no way your sister named that baby after me.”
“Yes, she fucking did!” He swings me around in a circle like a rag doll. “You’re stuck with us. Deal with it.”
After more baby ogling and several rib-cracking hugs from Mama Riley, Blake and I find the hastily parked Hummer in the hospital lot and speed away. He drives with a hand on my knee, singing along with Mick Jagger on “Play with Fire.” And I’m so peaced out that when he butchers the lyrics, I don’t even have the urge to correct him. Much.
We pull through the drive-thru of a McDonald’s, and I feed him french fries as the lights of downtown Toronto approach.
The food shores me up. So when Blake parks his car beneath his apartment building and turns to me, saying “Thank you for saving my sister and my niece,” the words nestle comfortably in my chest.
“I’m glad to have helped,” I say instead of arguing with his logic.
For the first time since I got here, I feel certain that nursing is something I’m going to excel in. Maybe my grades won’t be as good as Violet’s. Maybe I’m going to panic once in a while. But I’ll just keep paying attention like I did today, and I’ll learn to get more things right than I get wrong.
That’s all any of us needs to do.
“Will you stay the night?” Blake asks.
“Yeah,” I say immediately. “And thank you for asking. Instead of, well, just assuming.”
His face softens. “I’m sorry. I’m just used to…” He looks oddly embarrassed.
“Women throwing themselves at you,” I supply.
He clears his throat. “Well, yeah. Bossy works for me. On most girls.”
“I’m not most girls,” I argue.
Blake grins. “I know. That’s why I want to kiss you so bad. Can I?”
“Okay,” I whisper.
His smile comes closer. Then he takes my mouth gently, his lips soft. I draw a deep, slow breath and slant my head to improve our connection. Blake’s teeth graze my lower lip, and then he deepens our kiss. I open for him instinctively, welcoming him in. Whenever he touches me—from the very first day we met—I always melt like candy in the sun.
Before, I’d blamed this on my own lack of willpower. But tonight I don’t want to blame anyone. I just want to grab his shoulders and lean in. It isn’t long until we’re steaming up the Hummer.
Blake groans and breaks our kiss, his forehead against mine. “Let’s go upstairs, baby. I want you in my bed.”
In the way of two people who are in a hurry to pull each other’s clothes off, we hustle through the lobby to the elevator. It’s smooth sailing up to Blake’s floor.
The minute we enter his apartment, he kicks the door shut and pushes me up against the wall. Our kiss skips all the preliminary stages and goes right to a five-alarm fire. He wedges one muscular knee between my legs and then lets out a loud moan. “I want to do you on every surface of my apartment. Can’t decide which one should go first.”
I look up at his movie-star handsome, square-jawed face, my breath sawing in and out. This beautiful man wants me so badly he’s trembling. How did I get so lucky?
“I guess we’d just better start somewhere,” I say solemnly. “Sounds like it’s gonna be a long night.”
His answering smile is so bright and warm that I might need to remove some clothing just to survive it. So should he, I suppose. My fingers find their way to his buttons, and I undo them. His chin drops as he observes me.